


All That Can Be Held (Can Be Lost)

by OscarLeogere



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OscarLeogere/pseuds/OscarLeogere
Summary: The massacre of Beacon Hills was nearly twenty years ago now. Humans thought it was an act of terror, just a man and a gun (who never should have had one), but the supernatural world knew better. Ambassador Stilinski lost everyone he knew that day, he lost his father, his best friend, his first crush, his second crush, his Jeep... but he had picked himself back up. He had turned himself around, bought a new car, focused on his career and got his.Then word came from Vermont that an old friend is in need of his help.Then word came from Washington that the new President doesn't trust the supernatural one bit.Then word came from California that some freaky supernatural babies have started to hatch, and have a hankering for some man flesh.If The Ambassador learned anything from Beacon Hills, it's that flesh-eating babies are not as fun as they sound - and that all that can be held dear can be lost...N.B. Currently marked "not rated" as it will be explicit, but there's nothing yet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have not finished a first draft of this story. To put this into context, this is the first time I've been properly writing in several years, so y'all gonna' have to bear with me. In terms of my schedule, I'm currently unemployed and when I crack to I can write maybe 5-10k a fortnight. My current plot outline takes me to about 80k-120k, but I will eliminate and add plot points as I get a feel for the writing (with a tendency to decrease the story size). So we're probably looking at between 2 and 4 months for this story. (I can write a lot faster, but I have edited the current draft of chapter 1 maybe 10 times).
> 
> In terms of synopsis, I've avoided any major spoilers in the tags, but there's nothing that will be warning worthy, so no Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, etc. _asides_ from pre-fiction death of canon characters. Turning to the three major arcs that are mentioned in the summary. If you don't want potential spoilers, then gladly scroll past the rest of this note. I'm not going to cover the ending or anything, just the exposition (i.e. the first 5 or so chapters).
> 
> Plot point one (Spoiler, the old friend is Derek, but we all knew that) is based around Derek and Stiles. Stiles did not know that Derek was still alive, if you thought everyone you knew had died, that probably would piss you off a little, and therefore Stiles is pissed off a little. Derek's teenage son comes to ask Stiles for his help in curing his unwell father. Reluctantly, (with persuading) he agrees, discovering that the father is Derek, that Derek has been suffering since the Beacon Hills incident, and has built a nice, quite country life for him and his kids. Derek's illness is getting worse, and Stiles is the most talented witch/warlock in the Americas, but will it be a quick house call of 400 characters, or will a greater plot develop in the slash fiction story?
> 
> Plot point two, recently elected President Tangerine alongside his Vice President (and Gay Conversion success story) are not exactly accepting of the fact that there is a secret government system that has power over however many supernatural creatures there are, also aren't supernatural creatures anti-Christ or something? Fuck knows, what I do know however, is that as a major political entity in the Supernatural World, either Ambassador Stilinski is going to have to do something about this, or I'm going to need to reevaluate my synopsis writing skills.
> 
> Plot point three, what's a piece of fiction without creepy face-eating babies? Not very good.
> 
> Final warning: I like footnotes. I'm sorry. They're cliched, unamusing, a sign of sloppy writing, and if the information was really worth putting into the story, why wouldn't I do it in the main body of text? (there's meant to be a footnote here taking you to the end of the chapter, where amusingly I'll have written "it's not war and peace", but it appears that there's problems with putting footnotes within the notes (or I'm having problems), so you get this instead) - the rest work, I promise.

A loud bang can be heard and The Ambassador’s eyes jump up from his book and to the doorway, where a young man has impolitely walked in. The Ambassador holds his hand up, and the boy stops. There are noises of staff chasing him to the door, but The Ambassador dismisses them.

“If you’re not going to try to kill me, you should take a seat.” The Ambassador gestures in front of him, his pencil floating out of his hand and back to lying flat on the table. “Grab the door, while you’re at it.”

The Ambassador grabs his pencil and blows on it gently, sharpening as his does so. Shavings of wood fall by the wayside and float away towards the bin. The Ambassador had no reason to sharpen the pencil, but when strange young men find their way to his door there is nothing he enjoys more than token acts of magic _just_ to remind them what the power dynamic is within these walls.

The boy is nervous. The Ambassador can tell, the way he dithers before closing the doors, the way he carries himself, the way his suit hangs off him. It’s clearly new, but it is oversized and meant to impress. His hands grip the door loosely, his hands still cold from the cool autumnal day. Any witch would have used magic to keep their hands warm throughout the journey and so we were dealing with a Werewolf (Vampire is plausible, but they rarely come to knock on Ambassador Stilinski’s door).

“People never surprise me, you know.” The Ambassador says, once the boy is finally seated. “I don’t mean just humans, either. Wolves are just as foolish. Like young boys coming uninvited into my office.” He saw the wolf tense up a little, “Humans lash out when they are weak. You too, have stormed into my office, angry, knowing that I could kill you comfortably..”

The wolf’s claws extend slightly. His arms bulge and begin to strain the jacket of his suit.

“It is not a criticism, I admire your gumption.” The Ambassador waves his hand and the wolf claws retract again. “As long as you keep those claws to yourself, few men appreciate being threatened. Especially when it might destroy that lovely new suit of yours.” The Ambassador smirks. “So what is so important that you barge past my staff, but leaves you unable to risk angering me? A favour, I assume?”

“Mr Ambassador, sir.” The wolf’s nerves are showing again. “I’ve come to bring you to my pack.” He pauses. “My Dad, he’s unwell, he’s been sick for some time.”

“My staff can handle all kinds of curses and ailments. If you see Councillor… hmmm… Where are you based?”

“Vermont.”

“I think Councillor Pearson is in New Hampshire. If you go to -”

“I don’t _need_ Councillor Pearson. I need you.”

“I don’t think you appreciate your bargaining position here.”

“We don’t know what’s wrong with him. We’ve tried everything. He’s pretending it’s alright, but it’s not, we know it’s not and he’s -” The boy stopped dead in his tracks. “We don’t have a mom or a second dad, you’re the most powerful witch in the country, you’ve got to do something.”

The Ambassador’s eyes wander over the child. He knows that has to be something more. He makes eye contact to see the wolf staring at him. The contact remains, and a brief glimpse becomes a show of strength. Never back down from a staring contest with a wolf. The wolf stares at him for as long as he reasonably can bring himself to, before breaking his eye contact and looking back down to his hands.

“How old are you?”

“I’m sixteen, sir.”

“Tell me about your pack.”

“It’s not that big, we have my Dad, I have a couple of sisters and a brother – I’m the oldest. We keep to ourselves.” He pauses. “We don’t have enemies and we never fight witches or wolves or vampires or wyverns or whatever the fuck it is that people fight. We’re actually friends with some of them, they play bridge at the church down the road - it’s a synagogue too. Nobody would _want_ to curse him. He can’t be cursed, he’s just unwell.”

“I’m honestly not the best person for this, kid. I’m not a vet. Councillor Pearson has experience with wolves. Curses aren’t always intentional, maybe he wandered into someone’s trap, I did that when I was your age, I lost my voice for a week.” The Ambassador tears a post-it from a stack, quickly scrawls and reaches it over to the boy. “Go ask someone outside for his details, his names here.”

“I’m not leaving without you.” The wolf’s begins to shift, his eyes changing colour.

“What is it with wolves?” He tuts. The Ambassador tilts his head.

_“Come with me._ ” His attempt at a domineering wolf-voice falling flat.

“No.” His hand lifts in the air and the wolf stands. “Give your father my well wishes.”

_As if by magic_ the wolf starts to walk away. The Ambassador is alone again. He feels the tug of the wolf resisting for another minute, before finally being left alone to his own thoughts, the way that he likes it.

Ambassador Stilinski is not a normal man, ignoring his penchant for magic and his anal organisation of the old bookcases filled with magic, he is also a politician. At first glance, one might think a politician to be a normal human. However, politicians are more than that; they are normal humans gone wrong.

The Ambassador is no exception, and while he is a politician of a noble breed: he is a man who entered politics solely to prevent humans from being caught in the crossfire again, but nobility and kindness are not exclusive. Noble intentions are not enough to make someone kind. He did not learn how to do good deeds during his youth, at least he did not remember; he learned that all that can be held dear could be lost; and, he learned that sometimes men will die for what they believe in, if they believe it enough.

Those who go through war learn that small acts can destroy a man instantly, and so they must focus on the bigger picture. Politics teaches us that good intentions are not enough, if the details are not there. So the Ambassador is stuck between the minutiae of legislation and the balance of power between supernatural forces. That is to say, he does not think of that teenager again for the rest of the day, and turns his attention back to his work.

His office and his objectives work in tune. The bookshelves are filled with historic magical incidences, magical law and the history of relations between humans and the supernatural. The important matters when it comes to maintaining peace and security. While those who did not know the Ambassador might mistake the office for the library - as there are small tables with different collections of books scattered in small enclaves between shelves, and his large desk with its back to the window might readily be confused for that of a librarian keeping watch over the room – every desk was filled with tell-tale Stilinski-isms: small action figures (collectibles, obviously).

The giveaway signs that it is an office first and foremost are the wilting plants, whose desire for sunlight is matched only by The Ambassador’s Vitamin D deficiency. Librarians do not mistreat plants.

The Ambassador’s role is tentatively an interesting one, technically appointed as a joint representative of the North American Governments to oversee their relationship with the supernatural, he is the de facto head of state and head of government for witches, wolves and vampires across North America[1]. The Werewolf and Witches Alliance of North America (WWANA) wasn't always exciting, however.

Most days, such as today, he has very little time to spend on matters of grave importance and must focus on the Council’s deliberations. The Council’s powers are numerous, but often of a benign nature. I know what you’re thinking, there’s nothing more boring than a five page introduction to the inner workings of the werewolf economic system, whether or not there was a draft for the army, the extent to which that they collect taxation from their members. The Ambassador felt the same.

Where you and The Ambassador diverge is that he found nothing more exciting than the workings of the supernatural legal system. The basis is similar to that of the United States: if you commit a crime, you will be punished. If you are a werewolf and you kill a human, you’ll go to werewolf court; if you’re a werewolf and kill a witch, you’ll go to witches court; if you’re a werewolf and you kill a werewolf, you probably haven’t committed a crime; and if you’re a vampire, then you were probably in court when you did it.

The four distinct legal systems (witch, werewolf, vampire and human) were the bane of the Council’s life. To make matters worse, humans decided that every city and state and country should have different laws; and vampires had different laws for every day of the week.

However, the Council was still attempting to bring together these systems into one unified code. It was not an easy job.

-

A timid brunet peered around the door - he was a recent graduate, skilled werewolf and the personal assistant to Ambassador Stilinski.

“It’s time for you to go home.” He said.

“I should probably finish up this bit of reading before I -”

“It’s midnight.”

Ambassador Stilinski pulls his eyes away from the book and looks toward his clock. “You should have gone home, we have a meeting with the President tomorrow. I’ll finish up and go.”

“Mścisław[2] Stilinski,” His alpha voice comes out. “You are going home now.”

The Ambassador frowns. “Fine, but don’t go getting any wolfy ideas about you being in charge now, I get enough of that from the Council.”

“How could I _possibly_ make that mistake when you spend all day bossing me around?”

The Ambassador stands up, and walks over to his main desk and grabs his briefcase. He spins around aimlessly for a moment. “Dan, where’s my coat? Did I leave it in chambers?”

“It’s at home, boss.”

“It was snowing. I’m sure it’s here.”

“Come on now, you have everything. Let’s get you home.” Dan steps forward and places his arm around The Ambassador, ushering him out of his office to guide him through the old meandering corridors. “I have no idea how you used to look after yourself before I got here.”

“Oh, my last secretary was great. PhD in mathematics and she did a postdoc in economics. Honestly, up until the last redraft of the plot, she was great. Not sure what happened to her instead, but her removal has caused this first chapter to be a bit of a cockfest.”

Dan laughs a little as he rubs his hand up and down on The Ambassador’s sleeve. “She might be edited back in, yet.[3]”

When they walk into the lift, Dan stands behind The Ambassador and places his arms around him. The whole ordeal would perhaps look a little homoerotic to an outside observer, but at this time - when the building is theirs alone - who could possibly think such a thing? Scent marking is the main downside of working with wolves, in The Ambassador’s opinion. The sensitive hearing he can deal with, don’t talk shit and don’t masturbate, but you always make a smell, and no amount of deodorant can mask that wholesome generic Stilinski scent.

“What are you worrying about?” Dan asks as the lift’s doors open.

“It’s not important.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not important to you.”

“Come on, boss. We’re pack -”

“This isn’t about pack.”

“Everything is about pack.”

“For wolves.” The Ambassador starts walking towards the exit of the building. Tapping his ID card on the turnstile and pushing through. “I don’t even need to be a wolf to know what you smell like right now. I get it, the holy covenant of your pack, and if I want to stay a part of your family I have to share information, but don’t get pissed off at me for wanting to mull things over.”

Dan scowls. “I just want to know you’re safe.”

“I can look after myself.” It was a lie, nearly; close enough that he knew he didn’t believe it. “In my job there are inherent risks and dangers, with knowledge that falls to me to decide whether or not, and how much, I share it. If I am in danger beyond that associated with the line of duty, then I will tell you, happy?”

He taps his card against the outside door letting them both out.

“No.” Dan pulls The Ambassador into him. “Let me finish marking you before you go home. If you die, I’ll never get a job in the Capitol again” Dan pulls him into a hug before suddenly letting go and starting to walk past him.

The Ambassador takes a moment to react before seeing Dan looming over a curled up mass of a person taking shelter from the cold and snow.

“Hey there, kid, are you alright?” Dan asked. “What are you doing out here so late?”

Ambassador Stilinski peers over his shoulder. It’s the boy from earlier. He’s shivering and looking slightly blue. The Ambassador backs away slightly.

“I was waiting for someone. I think I fell asleep.” His teeth chattered slightly.

“Come on, let’s get you home. Where are you staying?”

“I don’t have anywhere. I didn’t think I’d be here for so long.” And then he started crying. “My phone’s out of battery and I didn’t tell my dad I was coming here. I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

“Hey, hey.” Dan pulled the boy up. “We can get you back to mine. I won’t hurt you, you can hear that right? We can get you back to your pack tomorrow. I work here, I can get you some help. Hey, Boss, I’m gonna’ -” Dan looked over his shoulder, but the Ambassador had already gone.

Dan takes off his coat and hands it to the kid. “I’m Dan. I live a ten minute walk from here and when we get back you can call your dad?”

The boy hesitates.

“Just to let him know you’re alright. Okay?”

The boy nods.

Dan pats him on his shoulder. “Come on, if we run we can be home in five minutes. It’ll warm you up too.” The boy doesn’t react. “I can hear your wolf desperate for some exercise.”

He nods again.

“What’s your name?”

“Adam.” He says. “Adam Hale.”

 

[1] Including the former American colony of the Philippines, which remained under the jurisdiction of the Witches and Werewolves Alliance of North America after their independence. This was due to fear that the now defunct British Commonwealth of Witches might demand their membership, forcefully.

[2] Pronounced mist-chi-swav (short a): [Link to pronunciation](https://forvo.com/word/m%C5%9Bcis%C5%82aw/)

[3] Don’t count on it, Lucy. [Fun fact: perhaps due to my homosexuality, I found the heterosexual tension between Stiles and Lucy very uncomfortable to write. Less fun fact: Lucy was vaguely based on my former best friend who turned out to hate me and told me this when she got engaged to be married and that’s why she wasn’t going to invite me to her wedding. :) (: :).]


End file.
